Fauxmance (Showmance #2)(25)

My cheeks grew warm and my lips dry. I opened my mouth but only an inarticulate, “Erm…no I…” came out.

“She’s not the owner,” Julian volunteered, eyeing me.

“Oh, well, we really love this place. It’s so cute,” the first woman said.

“Do you stock the Harry Potter books?” the other woman asked. “I told my son I’d bring him back the British version of book one. Apparently, the title is different over here.”

I swallowed a deep breath and forced myself to reply. “Y-yes. I’ll go grab you a copy.” Fetching the book was the escape I needed. It was one thing talking to Julian alone, but another entirely having a dozen or more sets of unfamiliar eyes on me.

I found the book too quickly, and when I returned, Julian was chatting with the tourists.

“If you’re looking for good vegetarian food, I highly recommend Mildred’s in Soho. There’s also Tibit’s in Mayfair if you’re interested in something quick. They do an amazing quinoa bowl,” he said. I envied his ability to converse with such confident ease. Then again, most people didn’t react to social situations in the same way I did.

Why couldn’t I just be normal?

“Here it is,” I whispered as I presented the book to the woman.

“Fantastic! I’ll take it,” she replied, and I rang up the purchase.

A minute later they left, and I felt like I could breathe again. The man in the History section was still perusing books and didn’t look like he’d be leaving any time soon.

“So, is that why you pretend to be Elodie?” Julian surmised when we were alone.

My brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“Those tourists. You looked like you were about to have a panic attack when they spoke to you.”

I’d say he was perceptive, but anyone with a pair of eyeballs could see something wasn’t right. I swallowed and replied, “I typically clam up when I have to talk to more than one or two people. One on one is fine, two on one is okay. Anything over and above that, I tend to freak out a little. But it’s all right. It’s just something I have to deal with.”

Julian’s face grew thoughtful. “Why do you think that is?”

I shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it. “I don’t know. I’ve just always been this way.”

He was silent for a moment, studying me. “You’re shy.”

State the obvious, why don’t you. My throat grew heavy because for some reason it upset me when people pointed it out. But really, this never felt like simple shyness. It was an invisible disability that everyone could see. I know that didn’t make sense, but it was the only way I could think to describe it. And it didn’t even really deserve to be compared to a disability, because there were people out there with problems much worse than not being able to talk sometimes. It was an inconvenience. I just had to struggle through it.

I refused to feel sorry for myself, or at least, I refused to acknowledge my selfish woe-is-me feelings of self-pity.

“So, can I ask where Elodie came from?” Julian rested an elbow on the counter, giving me his full attention.

I tugged on the hem of my top, that familiar sense of embarrassment creeping in. I decided to just bite the bullet and tell him. “She’s a…a character I made up. When I’m her, I don’t feel shy or self-conscious. For the most part.”

“Ah. So, she helps you deal with being around people, making friends,” Julian guessed.

I nodded. “It’s weird, I know. I’m a weirdo.”

“Not at all,” he was quick to counter. “I think it’s genius. You created a persona, whereby you can go out, have fun, interact with people and not have to worry about being self-conscious. For Elodie, there are no consequences, because she’s not real. For Ellen, there are, because she is real.”

I felt exposed when he summed me up in such a perfect nutshell.

“Um, yes, that’s…that’s pretty much why I do it.”

Julian’s eyes glittered as he slowly shook his head from side to side. “Amazing.”

Having him look at me like that while wistfully uttering the word ‘amazing’ was quite the feeling. My heartbeat sped up.

Then, a worrying thought hit me. “Are you going to tell Suze?”

One eyebrow rose slightly. “Suze doesn’t know?”

“I met her as Elodie. That’s who she thinks I am.”

“My, my, you must be a good actress.”

“Too good,” I said, suddenly relieved to be able to talk about all this with someone. Julian wasn’t judging me. If anything, he appeared impressed by my oddness. I felt, I don’t know, justified somehow.

Another silence fell, and I saw cogs turning over in his brain. He stared at me, gaze alight.

“What?” I asked, far too curious as to what he was thinking.

“Why don’t I help you?” he suggested.

“Help me how?”

“If you wish to explore more possibilities as Elodie, I can take you out, introduce you to people. You can pretend to be her at parties and soirees and such. I get invited to a lot of those sorts of things. You could be my plus one.”

“What are you, some sort of socialite?”

“In a sense, yes.”